Interesting morning. Woke up to find a SWAT team & the Sheriff's Dept. at every door. I walked on to the porch & a big Sheriff's deputy stuck a photo in my face and said "Is Jeff here?"
In my typical erudite fashion I said "Should he be?"
The Sheriff repeated his query.
While rechecking the form with the Jeff's photo on it, I noticed that the address was 950.
My address is 930.
If you're fucking blind.
There's this weird contraption in my front yard that some people know as "a mailbox."
On this "mailbox" are really big numbers that say
I suppose the cops didn't bother looking at my home's address, relying instead on their razor sharp cop-like instincts.
Just further fuel for my theory that TV always portrays cops as uber caring & competent heroes because that's the myth we ache to believe. Mainly because we've become a nation of big crybaby sissies.
The truth is that cops are probably as competent & caring as the rest of us. Which is pretty fucking scary when you factor in all those big fucking guns.